Blessed Be The Fight
by Lara Cox
Summary: It's Jack Bauer and Renee Walker against the totalitarian theocratic Republic of Gilead.
1. And now the world is ours

Hello, I've been away from this site for too long. Now I decided to write this crossover fanfic Mixing 24 characters with The Handmaid's tale.

The Premise is: The United States Of America falls into the hands of a group of Christian extremists called The Sons Of Jacob. They change the country's name to Gilead and establish a dictatorship where nobody is safe. Only Alaska and Hawaii remain in control on what's left of the American government. This happens while Jack Bauer is rotting in a Chinese prison. A secret resistance group called Mayday, looking to bring down Gilead and restore The United States, gets him released and asks him to join them in their fight. He infiltrates deep into The Sons of Jacob and meets Renee Walker.

I'll try to write assuming some 24 fans reading this never watched The handmaid's Tale, so the story should be easy to follow for those who watched only 24.

I'll keep the events happening in 24 unchanged until the end of Season 5.

This is what you need to know about the timeline I'll use:

March 2, 2004- DAY ONE (Super Tuesday)

September/October 2005- DAY TWO

September/October 2008 – DAY THREE

March/April 2010- DAY FOUR

September/October 2011- Day FIVE

I hope you enjoy it.

** Blessed Be The Fight**

**Prologue: **

** And now the world is ours**

**January 2014**

For the record, Gilead was never my intention. Neither my father's. At first, we were just a father and a son in a search for money. Who doesn't want money? The plan was to let some international terrorist group acquire twenty canisters of nerve gas. But then we would kill them in an "Accident" on the way to attacking Moscow. Just the fact that a terrorist group managed to acquire the nerve gas, would give the US the excuse to increase its military presence and oil activity abroad. Nobody wants weapons of mass destruction in in central Asia, after all.

Alan Wilson and his associates, such as that nutcase Jonas Hobbes, would become disgustingly rich selling weapons and the services of their private military companies.

Oil prices would inevitably soar, which is good when you sell oil.

Everyone would be happy. Well, not everyone-everyone…. Just everyone who matters.

But then my brother had to come around, with his attitude, and fuck it all up. As he always does. Luckily, I managed to send him to rot to a Chinese prison. So, that problem was solved.

Of course, we had a bigger problem in our hands. The world had a much bigger problem. Fertility rates were dropping fast… very fast.

That was something I was very familiar with. I discovered in the mid-90's that I can't father a child. I had to beg my brother to donate healthy sperm, and through the magic of artificial insemination, my son Josh was born. One would think that Jack donating his sperm to make me a dad would wake a deep brotherly love I should have always felt for my big brother. Quite the contrary. I resented him more than ever.

By 2010, it seemed that infertility had become an epidemic, a pandemic.

One day, I had a very secret meeting with Alan Wilson. He usually communicated through computer, without showing his face. But he felt this issue was too important, had to be discussed in person.

We met in my office. He told me about this group of people who called themselves "The Sons Of Jacob". They are a group of Christian extremists. And I really do mean extremists. Their dream was to turn the USA into totalitarian, theo-centric, and neo-Puritanical regime. They wanted to clean the country, literally and figurately. They wanted to ban abortion and birth controls. They wanted to keep women in their houses, ban them for working, just serving their husbands. All that I could get on board with.

But they also wanted to reduce the pollution that's making people barren by ending capitalism. I know what you're thinking. Wow… no money? Just organic farms and tokens? Are they insane? And what about the oil? Oh, here's the thing…. A totally decarbonized economic model is impossible. Even the least industrialized nation on the planet needs oil. You definitely can't run any massive modern army without it. And those lunatics would need the biggest and most modern military in the world if they expected everyone to just go along with their insanity. No doubt about that.

So, Wilson would provide the army, I'd secure the oil to keep it running.

The only question was… Did we really want to help those lunatics end capitalism? Wilson, my father and I had worked to become extremely rich our whole lives. I was not too eager to let that go, neither was Wilson. Of course, we wouldn't need money anymore since we would just take whatever we wanted. (In fact, I ended up moving into a mansion much bigger and nicer than the one I had in LA. I think we took it from some gay CEO). And we would have all the free labour we needed.

We took time to think things through. There were a couple of more meetings. I researched A LOT about The Sons Of Jacobs.

I read a book called "A Woman's Place", written by one Serena-Joy Waterford, who at the time was a key member of that group. Boy, must be feeling very stupid now! Anyway, I found the reading very interesting.

I also read the bible. Oh, dear. I had never noticed it before, but if you take that book too literally, we are all committing a sin just by using the toilet.

We were very concerned about how the group's extremist religious views would affect us personally. The three of us like young women, alcohol, cigars, etc… But Wilson was certain that the most powerful men on the country would be able to get away with pretty much anything. (We actually managed to get secret brothels where we can satisfy our more, eh, earthly needs).

In the end, it was my father who said: "Money is like the Mc-mansion that starts falling apart after 10 years. Power is the old stone building that stands for centuries. That's what I always wanted to build. That'll be our legacy"

Just like that, we were on board.

Around August 2012, Wayne Palmer officially accepted the democratic party's nomination for President of The United States, challenging republican Hal Gardner.

The Sons Of Jacob were livid. They had suffered in silence when liberal black divorcee David Palmer was in control, empowering minorities and women. They wouldn't put up with anything like that ever again.

They started a fierce online campaign attacking Palmer, planted fake news blaming Palmer and his family for everything that was wrong in the world (My favourite was the rumour that the Palmers run a child-trafficking ring from a pizza place), and threw all their money at old white Hal Gardner. But it was futile. After the mess with Charles Logan, no republican would win again anytime soon. No way. No how.

So, as expected, on November 2012 Wayne Palmer won by a landslide.

It was time to act.

Abu Fayed was just the type of sucker we needed to get everything started. One of those Islamic extremists who actually believe in their cause and despise America deeply. And he hated my brother almost as much as I do. That was a plus. Turned out, we weren't the only ones trying to use Fayed as a pawn. Some Russian bastard had the same idea. But we got Fayed on our side after all.

We supplied Fayed with what he needed. Then we just had to sit and watch our TVs.

He got everything started on Thanksgiving Day.

A random bus was blown off in New York City, causing four deaths. Just a few hours before the parade. Starting with Manhattan was the perfect way to create fear.

After the weekend, two more busses were blown off, this time in Chicago. Seven people were dead. The number of victims was low. But that didn't matter. People were scared.

The attacks kept happening almost every day. And everyone was blaming Islamic Extremists. Fayed was smart enough, though, to frame another Muslim prick called Hamri Al-Assad.

On January 20th 2013, Wayne Palmer took office in a private ceremony. He was hardly seen in public anymore, which didn't help make anyone feel any safer.

By February, around 1000 Americans had been killed. Wayne Palmer was under an enormous amount of pressure. His administration was divided over a plan to create detention centres for every Muslim in the US.

The Son of Jacob felt like they were seeing the face of God.

I provided Fayed with nuclear weapons, only so he would get caught with them and cause mass panic. Those weapons were useless without the detonators anyway, so there wouldn't be any real harm. A nuclear attack was the last thing any of us wanted.

But he started going rogue. He told Palmer he would turn in Hamri Al-Assad… If the Palmer administration gave him Jack Bauer. Fayed wanted to torture and kill my brother himself. Wayne was actually considering getting Jack out of the Chinese prison, just to let Fayed kill him. I felt it was a terrible idea. While I was happy to see my brother die, no matter how, it was too risky for us to get Jack out of Shanghai. The best course of action was to keep my brother locked up there, where he couldn't cause any problems.

An anonymous tip (Wink, wink) gave CTU, the FBI and the CIA, evidence of Fayed's involvement in the attacks, clearing Hamri- Al-Assad of wrongdoing. Hence, keeping my brother in China.

The authorities found Fayed soon. But not soon enough. On February 10th, he managed to detonate all five nuclear weapons on American soil, as near as possible to the biggest nuclear plants in the west coast. Around 40.000 people died instantly. The Midwest and Southwest became inhabitable. I was horrified and livid. That was NOT supposed to happen! The CIA, the FBI and CTU were supposed to find him BEFORE he could denotate the bombs. Can't they function without my brother? Honestly… they have nobody but themselves to blame. It was not my fault. It was not my fault. It really wasn't.

Anyway, what was done was done…. It was time for the final blow.

Presidents' Day was the day we chose. February 17th 2013.

One hundredth brown men with machine guns stormed into the Capitol Building killing everything in sight, while another heavily-armed large group did the same in the White House, and the Supreme Court Building.

Troops needed to be deployed. The shooters were all killed, but so were over 5000 innocents. More importantly, there was nobody left to govern. Quite literally. Wayne Palmer died in the hospital. Noah Daniels was also killed. Everyone in the Presidential Line of Succession was dead.

The army declared a state of emergency. As owners of all the biggest Private Military companies in America, Alan Wilson and Jonas Hodges formed what they called "Committee For National restoration", supposedly a temporary government until the nation got back on its feet. They included my father and I. We also included the most prominent members of The Sons Of Jacob: George Winslow and B. Frederick Judd, who brought in other members of their group. So, there we were. A bunch of old white men in charge.

The first thing we did was to declare martial law and suspend the constitution, claiming it'd be temporary. "National security".

We sent all the Muslims to detention camps. You can't be too careful after five nuclear bombs and a massacre. Right?

We also deported everyone not born in the USA, regardless of their citizenship status. It was done so quickly; everyone was too stunned to react.

All money was replaced with cards. Nobody could spend one cent without the government (the committee) knowing what you bought and where. It was an understandable security measure.

We installed security checkpoints all over our cities.

But, Little by little, Wilson, Hodges my dad and I were losing control of the republic we were creating.

George Winslow and Fred Judd named themselves "High Commanders of the Faith" and took over. Dad, Alan, Jonas and I were sent to New York with the title of "Commanders".

The High Commanders started taking measures that they tried to justify with the low fertility rates. Abortion had long been banned. (Thanks, Hal Gardner). Now birth control pills required a husband's signature, and were eventually banned. Women's bank accounts were frozen and accessible only by their husbands or any male relative. Women were banned for working. Their role was to reproduce and raise children.

That's when the massive protests started. And it was then that The Sons of Jacob dropped the charade.

The troops that were patrolling the streets were given orders to shoot the protestors.

Soon, the CIA, and FBI and CTU were all shut down. The agents who hadn't broken any law were given the chance to serve the country as "Angels" (that's how the military is called now) or "Guardians Of the faith" (regular law-enforcers). Those agents who were guilty of adultery or 'gender treachery' were executed. (I'm so glad I was smart enough to send my son Josh to New Zealand before they started to shoot all the gay down).

It got even wackier.

Fertile women who get caught breaking the law are forced to become A Handmaid. What's a Handmaid? She is a woman forced to bear a child for her commander and his wife. I have no use for my handmaid, since I already know I can't father a child. I know it. My wife Marilyn knows it. And my dad and my brother know it. But Jack's trapped in China, and anyone would lose their tongues if they even dared to suggest a man is sterile. Yeah, that's the best part. Legally, a man can't be sterile. So, I get to enjoy pretending to get a woman knocked up every month.

If a woman commits a serious crime, such as adultery or 'gender treachery', but can't bear children, she gets sent to The Colonies. Oh, yeah… the colonies. Remember how the Midwest and Southwest became inhabitable after the nuclear attacks? We are sending the criminals to clean it up and make it habitable again. The women there die of radiation poisoning after a while. I suggested giving them some sort of protective equipment to make them last longer, so we wouldn't run out of slaves too soon. We want that place clean after all, right? The Committee didn't go with it. But that's fine. As it turns out, you never run out of criminals when you get to decide what's a crime.

And if you are thinking "They can't do that! This is America!"... Well, we can, because it's not. This is The Republic of Gilead.

It's not like nobody is trying to stop us.

Alaska and Hawaii are in control of a so-called 'American government-in-exile', with James Heller as President-in-exile. But their troops are pathetic. They haven't gathered enough international support for an invasion, and the probably never will. We are cleaning the environment and populating our republic. Who can disagree with that?

An 'American militia' controls, unofficially, the entire West Coast and the Gulf Coast, and northern Michigan along with a few enclaves in Vermont, New Hampshire, and some parts of Maine and New York. But they barely holding. They don't have the resources to beat our army. So, we are not worried.

My father was right. Power is so much better than money. Gilead will be our legacy, and it will last for centuries.


	2. Renee's Crossroads

Author's note: Hello, everyone. I hope all the readers are doing well in these challenging times. I started this story a long while ago. But I've been doing a lot of thinking, and some re-writing. So, I deleted the chapters I posted previously. I decided that, before fully getting into Jack Bauer's involvement and Gilead, I should develop two aspects that (I felt) were neglected the first time I wrote this story: 1- An explanation of why and how exactly Renee Walker's story in this fanfic differs from show's canon. 2- A deeper explanation of how The United States of America turned into Gilead. The Handmaid's Tale mentions a big terrorist attack that obliterated the legitimate government, and led to The Sons of Jacob taking over. The show gives glimpses (flashbacks) of what seems to be a 'transitional time', where life in the US was neither 'normal' nor the dystopian nightmare it would later be… this seems to take place between the attacks, and the day June was captured. And it's hinted that even before the attacks, Christian extremists were using the infertility plague to influence some policies. (June needing a husband's signature for birth control, BEFORE the legitimate government was killed). Also… the roles of the police, the CIA, the FBI and NSA in the immediate pre-Gilead era has never been too clear. it's only hinted that the FBI had strong suspicions regarding Fred Waterford and his group, but never got anywhere. Given Renee is an FBI agent and CTU exists in 24's universe, I felt the role of government agencies deserved a better explanation in my story.

Important clarification: there's a lot of talk online comparing the freedoms being lost due Covid-19 with Gilead… but, please, do not interpret any line of my story as me supporting such nonsense. You cannot compare some temporary restrictions that apply to any living human, based on actual scientific evidence, real testimonies and real deaths, with a LITERAL coup d'etat based on a terrorist attack, orchestrated by the same seeking power, who don't base anything they say on science, or facts, but on their messed-up interpretation of the Bible. You cannot compare what's going on now, some new annoying rules affecting everyone equally, with LITERAL WAR CRIMES targeted mainly at minorities just because they are considered 'sinners'.

That's all from me. Thanks for reading. I'd love to get your reviews.

**Chapter Summary: **After 16 months trying to bring down a Russian arm-trafficking ring and enduring an abusive relationship with their leader, FBI agent Renee Walker struggles to overcome a major trauma and figure out her next steps. True love becomes the most unexpected option.

**Chapter One: **

** Renee's Crossroads **

**May 02nd 2009 **

**New York Community Hospital, Brooklyn, New York. **

She began waking up from the anesthesia, struggling to recall why she was in a hospital bed. Then flashes of the night before flooded her mind. The yelling in English and Russian. The smell of alcohol in his breath. Him kicking the side of her body, as she was already down. All the blood coming from the wound in her head… and from inside her womb.

As a strong nausea hit her throat, she tried rolling to her side, but the pain was too strong. Somebody helped her get in a better position, and held a paper bag under her mouth, as some bile spewed out of her. When she was on her back again, the other person cleaned up her lips with a wet wipe, while repeating: "It's fine. You'll be okay. I'm here for you".

She managed to open only one eye, since the other one was too swollen. She saw Larry Moss standing by her bed. She vaguely remembered grabbing her cellphone to send a distress signal to the FBI, after it became clear Vladimir would kill her, sometime after midnight. She'd sent a text to her case officer, and another one to Larry.

"You're here", she mumbled. Her mind still foggy.

"Of course", he struggled to remain composed. Seeing her again for the first time in 16 months, alive but so badly wounded, was bringing up too many feelings he had to hide.

"What happened?", she asked, wincing in pain. It was hurting her lungs just to breathe in. But she noticed that she could speak and open her mouth without feeling pain in her face, which meant that, this time, her cheekbone wasn't fractured, like it had been last August.

"You had a concussion, five broken ribs…", Larry's voice was breaking slightly. He'd just found out this was her third visit to the emergency room in ten months… always with some broken bone. This time she had suffered a miscarriage as well.

"I meant… with the case", she interrupted him, still somewhat groggy. She didn't want to discuss her injuries with Larry, ever. "Did they arrest _him_?"

"All the members of his ring were arrested", he replied, which didn't answer her question. It was a sad attempt to postpone saying the only words that could make Renee's day even worse, if such thing was even possible.

"What about Vladimir?", she insisted, noticing the defeat in Larry's face.

"Nobody knows where he is", he was forced to admit.

"What?!", Renee grew alert and tried to sit up, but the pain on her chest was too strong.

Larry helped her sit up more comfortably, placing extra pillows behind her back. "Is that better?" Renee nodded, but she was visibly hurting. "You need more pain killers and an ice-patch", he said, heading towards the door, to get the nurse.

"I need to know how that son of a bitch got away!", Renee's eyes were filling up with tears of anger. But she managed to contain them.

"I don't know", he scoffed, showing his anger and frustration for the first time. "When I got here, FBI and NYPD had already raided his house, his offices… but they didn't find him".

"How long it's been…?" Renee asked, not even sure if it was the same day. She vaguely recalled waking up in the main bathroom floor, to the sound of FBI agents raiding Vladimir's mansion, and being rushed to the hospital. There had been a lot of questions, tests and waiting. But she hardly remembered any of it. And she didn't know how long she'd been under the anesthesia.

"It's just about half-past four, in the afternoon", Larry answered, while moving the curtains covering the window, to let some natural light in. He figured it could be good for her.

"So, he could be anywhere by now", she realized, with her voice breaking, and a single tear flowing down her cheek. "It was all for nothing".

Feeling heartbroken for her, he approached her bed and tried to offer somewhat reassuring words. "Not nothing. He lost all his men. Most his assets. He's a fugitive in the most wanted list. And that's because of you". Despite his words, she kept her head down, looking profoundly ashamed of herself. Wishing to be supportive, in any way, Larry tried holding her hand, as he had done in the past, but this time it only made her flinch. "I'm so sorry", he said, clumsily stepping back. "I… I better get you that ice-patch, and the doctor"

"I need to talk to Agent Lundy…", she gasped, as she struggled to breathe and her tummy was hit by extreme cramping.

Ignoring her request, Larry rushed to get medical help instead, and then was forced to wait in the hallway, outside her room, as Renee was checked by her doctor.

FBI Agent Melvin Lundy, her case officer, was also in the hallway, just waiting for his chance to interrogate her, looking like a vulture. "Agent Moss, how's our girl doing?", he asked with a casual tone, as he read something on his own cellphone.

"Excuse me? _our girl_?", Larry stared at the other man in disbelief, feeling enormous outrage building up inside. He had always hated Melvin. He got on the other man's space, with his most intimidating look. "If you're talking about our colleague, Agent Walker, you better refer to her as Agent Walker!"

"Okay", Melvin stepped back slightly from the taller agent, who resembled an angry wounded wild animal right then. "I need to talk to her. Laitanan was seen inside Newark airport, three hours ago. But he's not there anymore". He showed Larry an image on the screen of his cellphone, where Vladimir Laitanan could be seen inside the airport, wearing a New York Yankies baseball cap. "We believe he got on a plane, using an unknown alias"

"Great, we can narrow down that bastard's location to _this entire planet_!", Larry snapped sarcastically at the other agent, after seeing the image on Melvin's cellphone. "How could you let this happen, Agent Lundy?!"

Melvin remained calm. "Agent Moss, you have no idea what we were dealing with. This case belongs to the New York office, which you no longer run. I'm only keeping you informed as a courtesy, for old times' sake…". He had worked with Larry from 1999 to 2006. But he had never witnessed him losing his temper, or showing emotional distress, not even during the city's darkest times.

Larry just puffed and shook his head. "Agent Lundy, not only you let this mission go too far, but you failed to arrest the main target, after Agent Walker risked everything to get you the intel you needed…" Before Melvin could protest, Larry raised a hand to stop him, "I'm not interested in your courtesy or your excuses. Just be very grateful I'm not your boss anymore, or your career would definitely be over".

After what felt like an eternity, a doctor walked out of Renee's room and announced to both agents: "She's better now. She'd like to see you".

When both agents walked into the room, Renee was sitting up in the bed, holding an ice-patch over her broken ribs.

"Agent Walker, I'm glad you are getting better", Melvin said, rather awkwardly. He put a brown bag over the small table with wheels by the bed. "I brought some of your personal belongings recovered from Laitanan's mansion"

"Thanks", she anxiously checked the contents of the bag with one hand. She was relieved to see that her laptop was still there. Now that the doctor had given her more pain meds and anxiety medication, directly into her bloodstream, she was feeling much better. More serene, with minimum pain, but lucid enough to go through her files. She was anxious to start working on her final report, and finally put the last 16 months of her life far behind her.

"And do you want the clothes and shoes from your apartment as well?", Melvin asked, trying to be nice but, sounding patronising.

Renee shook her head in a heartbeat. "I don't want anything from that place"

"Okay", Melvin took his own laptop from a briefcase and set it up on the little table. "Ready to start the debriefing?" Renee nodded, much to his relief. "Let's start with the events of last night then…"

"Wait… Larry, do you mind…?", she gestured towards the door. She didn't mean to be rude, but she wasn't about to describe her life as Renee Zadan in front of Larry Moss. It seemed like he already knew far more than she had ever wanted him to know.

"Oh" Larry was a bit startled. "You sure you don't want me to stay for this?"

"I'm sure", she affirmed.

"All right" he agreed, with some reluctance. He thought of another way to help, while giving her some space. "I can go get you some new clothes, and other stuff you'll need"

"Thanks", she said with the tiniest smile.

Nearly three hours later, Larry returned with a few shopping bags. "May I..?", he asked tentatively by the door, before approaching her. Renee was by herself, siting in the bed, with an open laptop in front of her.

"Yeah. The debriefing is done, now I'm just working on the report", she said, closing the laptop. Any other person would have been surprised by her dealing with the report, right after such major trauma, but Larry knew her far too well.

"How did it go?", he asked, handing her the bags.

"Fine", she replied almost automatically. She had, at least, protected her reputation in the FBI, by not disclosing the most private aspects of her relationship with Vladimir and claiming she had '_fought him off' _every time he had tried to rape her. It felt like a small victory.

She looked inside the shopping bags, as Larry sat on the chair by her bed. There were toiletries, two plain nightgowns, jeans, an ordinary purple t-shirt and new basic underwear… which was very awkward for both of them. But couldn't be avoided. She had nobody else available, in New York, to help her out. And she definitely didn't want any clothes from the last 16 months. She wouldn't wear any garment Vladimir had ever touched.

At the bottom of the bag, she saw something even more embarrassing, but also crucial in her situation. A large pack of sanitary pads… maxi pads, meant for heavy bleeding. Particularly useful after a miscarriage. Larry had thought of every single detail. Most men wouldn't know which pads were best for her situation, but his wife had experienced three miscarriages in the past.

"Thank you", Renee managed to whisper, too ashamed to look at Larry directly. She had already noticed he was the only one who knew about the miscarriage, other than doctors and nurses, but she still didn't know how. "Who told you?"

"When I got here, your doctor spoke to me, because I'm still your emergency contact", he explained. Renee was unfazed, and nodded, as if that was the answer she had expected. "They told me you needed a D&C, that it was risky to let the miscarriage happen naturally, you were losing too much blood". As he spoke, Larry braced himself for an emotional reaction… that never came. She just stared silently at the wall in front of her, looking cold as ice. It was unsettling. He wasn't sure what to say next. "I'm so sorry"

"Don't be", she reassured him in an instant, now looking at him. She knew he was expecting a waterfall of tears. But she couldn't even muster a single teardrop over the pregnancy loss. She was only feeling shame over her relationship with Vladimir.

"Larry, I appreciate everything you did. Really. But I need to be alone now", she said, trying not to sound too cold. She was just too ashamed of herself to be around anybody right then.

"You sure?", he asked, hoping she'd change her mind. "I don't mind…"

"I'll be fine", she insisted with a sharp tone.

"Okay", Larry reluctantly stood up. He hated the idea of leaving her alone in such difficult times. But he had to respect her wishes. "Is there anything else you need before I go?"

"No. I'm fine", she assured him, hastily.

"See you tomorrow?", he said in tone of a hopeful question.

"Okay", she agreed, figuring she'd feel better in the morning.

Before leaving, Larry wished he could hold her hand, or touch her cheek, or ran his hand through her hair… anything at all that could show a tiny fraction of how he felt. But he remembered her flinching at his touch before, so he decided not to do anything.

Once alone, Renee managed to leave the bed and walk to the bathroom. She moved slowly, groaning, while dragging along the wheeled pole holding the IV bag and carrying her new nightgown and clean panties. Walking few those steps hurt like hell. But, at least, she had walked to the bathroom without help for the first time since arriving to the hospital.

She looked at herself in the mirror, examining the damage. Her right eye was purple. Her lower lip was puffy, with a visible cut on the left side. Her neck had reddish marks. She remembered now Vladimir wrapping his hands around her throat, nearly choking the life from her, until sirens were heard. He tossed her brusquely and ran away.

When she took off her hospital gown, she saw the left side of her chest looked bruised. But what brought tears to her eyes was the small red rose tattooed in the spot between her breasts: her initiation tattoo. Gotten shortly after being accepted into _his_ crew. Vladimir had watched as it got done, with a proud smile on his face, very impressed by the fact that _his woman_ didn't seem to feel the needle at all.

She couldn't stand to look at herself anymore and covered her body with her new nightgown. Larry had bought her a very long, blue, modest cotton nightgown with a fully opening front, which seemed made for hospital use. So practical. So sensible. So appropriate. She couldn't help a bitter chuckle.

She then dragged herself, and the IV bag, back to her bed. She opened the laptop, and was able to check her real email accounts for the first time in sixteen months. She decided to begin with the one she used only for personal reasons: ReneeWalker82

She thought it'd be good to reconnect with her real life, her real self. As expected, she had to delete of tons of spam. She noticed a large number of unsolicited ads about fertility, offering IVF treatments, fertility drugs, and shady '_natural alternatives_' or _'Miracle solutions_' for those who couldn't conceive a baby. Even advertisements for banks, or private loans, said: '_Start financing your IVF treatment TODAY!_'.

She had also received an email from some religious organization called _The Sons of Jacob_ with the subject: 'THE TRUTH ABOUT THE INFERTILITY PLAGUE… GOD IS THE ANSWER!'. Renee deleted it without even opening it. She had already heard about that religious movement. They were just a group of nutcases spewing sexist nonsense.

However, such reminders of '_the infertility plague_' made her feel very guilty. Three in four couples worldwide couldn't conceive a child naturally, or suffered miscarriages if they did. But she had conceived a baby by accident, while being on birth control no less, and then felt nothing about the baby being gone… nothing but a tiny hint of relief. The last thing she would have wanted was a baby from Vladimir. Maybe she was some sort of monster… maybe she deserved every bad things that had happened to her.

She managed to push those thoughts away. She told herself that all the people desperate to become parents wanted a child either with someone they loved, or some clean anonymous donor, or surrogate. Nobody on the planet would want a baby from Vladimir Laitanan, if they knew him. They'd have to be batshit crazy to want _his_ spawn. She took several deep breaths, telling herself her reaction was only logical, under her circumstances.

She finally reached an email that interested her. It was, unsurprisingly, from her former mentor at the FBI… Zoe Gianna Moss, Larry's mother.

Sun January 13/2008

From: ZGMoss1938

Subject: My best wishes, from Sicily.

My dearest Renee, the daughter I never had…

I'm sorry I missed your going-away party. I hope these words reach you before you start your assignment. I wanted to say, again, that I've always been proud of you. I'm so glad I got to watch a woman like you take the oath and pick up the badge before retiring.

I'm not allowed to know anything about your mission, but I know your background, your skills. I recruited you and was one of your instructors in Quantico. I can guess what they want you to do. We both know your entire life has been a preparation for this moment. You're ready. You'll succeed. But you are smart enough to know that it won't happen without great pain and sacrifices. That's okay. It's okay to feel the pain and lean in those who love you. I'll be there when you come back. So will Larry.

Good luck. Hoping we meet again soon.

Love,

Zoe

With her fingers and lips trembling slightly, on the verge of tears, Renee began typing an answer… but then desisted. She wasn't ready to write to Zoe, yet. She was too embarrassed. Zoe's most challenging undercover mission, ended in March of 1972 with the main target, an Italian-American mob boss, in a federal prison… and Larry being born in August. Zoe had always seen Larry a wonderful blessing. Meanwhile, Renee felt that _not_ ending up pregnant by Vladimir had been the single blessing in her own situation. How could she ever admit such thing to Zoe, or even to Larry himself?

She brushed off tears that kept falling from her eyes, and moved forward to another unread e-mail that interested her more than anything else.

Sat January 12/2008

From: LarryMoss72

Subject: Good luck and thanks

Dear Renee,

I hold no hope you respond to this, or that you read it any time soon. I know you're planning to meet him tomorrow, so you must have cut all ties with your real life by now. I can only hope that you live to read this someday. Sorry. Too dark? I'm so scared for you. I just want to apologize to you again, sincerely, for my shameful behavior last night. I'd never been that drunk, and I swear I'd never done karaoke before. I don't know what's wrong with me lately. I'm so sorry. You know I was raised better than that. At least we were more honest with each other than ever before. I guess that's something. But I still feel awful, and truly embarrassed. Thank you for being so understanding. Thank you for bringing sense into me, pushing me to do the right thing. You are such a good person. That's why I'm terrified for you. That's why I begged you not to take the assignment. It's not that I think you are too naïve or too weak… You certainly have the brains, and the skills. But you're also too good, too decent. I just hope you make it through in one piece, regardless. As I write this, I realize that you will be just fine, because you are the smartest and strongest person I know. You are very capable of dealing with anything that life throws at you. And when your mission is over, I'll be here for you. We'll always be friends, even if we are not meant to be more in this lifetime.

Here for you, always

Larry

As she read, Renee could imagine Larry's voice saying every word. She realized the email had been sent on the morning of January 12… it must have been written while she was colouring her hair with black-cherry red dye, as if covering whatever innocence left in her. That afternoon, she took a train to New York, leaving behind the well-intended FBI rookie with light auburn hair, and a hopeless crush on her married boss… now that rookie felt like a complete stranger, who was looking very small from the distance.

She didn't deserve to be called '_a good person_' or '_decent_'… not anymore. She certainly didn't deserve a man like Larry being there for her, or with her. Any goodness and decency in her had been lost, at some point in the last sixteen months. _That _was the biggest damage Vladimir had ever caused to her. And the realization felt like a knife straight into her heart.

Fueled with self-loathe, Renee knocked down the laptop to the floor and broke down in uncontrollable sobs.

**May 03rd 2009**

Slightly after 10 AM, Larry arrived to the hospital to check on Renee, wondering if she'd want to see him. He knocked on the door and slowly opened it. There was a black-haired man in his late 30's, wearing blue scrubs, standing next to her bed. The stranger's badge said '_Dr. C. Foster. Chief of ER.'_. Larry then realised who the man was… Dr. Clayton Foster, a guy Renee had dated for almost four years, and had been very briefly engaged to. Due the personal connection, the doctor hadn't been involved in Renee's medical care and was just innocently catching up with her, after six years of not seeing her.

"That's my wife Paige with baby Chelsea. Born seven weeks ago", the man said with a proud expression on his face, as he showed Renee an image on his cellphone.

Despite of her own emotional turmoil, Renee couldn't help but to chuckle when she saw the new-born girl dressed with a bodysuit that said '_New York Knicks Lil Dribbler_'. Clayton had always been a big fan of The Knicks. "So cute. Congratulations"

Clayton was about to praise a fertility clinic and the specialists for the miracle of his baby's birth. But then they noticed Larry standing awkwardly by the door-frame, holding a bag that said _Tompkins Square Bagels_ and two coffee mugs.

"Larry, hi", Renee greeted him, with a tiny smile. After her nervous breakdown the day before, she had been given strong medication to get a night of deep sleep. She now felt a bit calmer, and stronger. "He's Larry Moss, my...", she began saying to Clayton, but trailed off, not knowing how to introduce Larry anymore. "I used to work for him"

"Hey, I'm Clay Foster. Red's ex fiancé", the doctor introduced himself, with a cocky smirk.

"Nice meeting you", Larry replied and shook the man's hand, just to be polite.

"Wait till you get to know me", Clay joked smoothly. After his pager made a sound, he realised he had no time to catch up anymore. "Well, it's been nice talking to you, Red… but I've got a whole ER to run…"

"Does it have patients you _haven't_ dated?", she asked, pretending to be shocked.

"Of course… this isn't Manhattan", he kidded, with a wink, before rapidly leaving the room.

Larry was more than happy to watch Clayton leave. Now that he'd met the doctor in person, he found Renee's ex fiance too obnoxious. Or, perhaps, it was just jealousy.

"So, that was Clay…", he commented, attempting to sound casual.

"Yeah… he became chief of ER in this hospital last month", she said, with a clear _don't-go-there_ tone and look. Larry had strongly advised her against working undercover in New York, precisely because too many people from the past could have recognized her as Renee Walker while Vladimir was around. By a miracle, nobody did… But many other things Larry had said 16-months earlier actually happened.

But he had no intention of giving her the _I-told-you-so_ speech she'd been dreading. He was there to be a friend, not to make her feel worse. "Anyway, I brought coffee and bagels", he announced, putting the bakery bag and cups on a table, which he wheeled to her bed. "Cinnamon raisin, and there's extra cream cheese"

"Oh, thank you", a small smile appeared on her face, after noticing the coffee was a macchiato. She was surprised, and moved, that Larry still remembered her preferences.

"You're welcome… _Red_", he raised his eyebrows, jokingly using Clayton's nickname for her.

"Yeah… you and I don't do that… _boss Moss_", she warned him, lifting her index finger.

"Okay… no silly nicknames", Larry promised, chuckling and lifting his hands in surrender. Renee seemed briefly stunned by something. He feared she had noticed the absence of his wedding ring. But, much to his relief, she said nothing and just had some coffee.

He sat on the chair by her bed. They were silent for several minutes, until he saw that the lid of Renee's laptop had a big crack. "What… what happened to your computer?"

"Just a clumsy accident", she lied, looking down. Then she smiled falsely at Larry, to reassure him. "It's fine anyway. A bit banged up, but still works"

"All right". He nodded. He could easily tell she was lying, but he knew her well enough not to insist right then. He drank some of his black coffee, contemplating what to say next. "Has Dr. Collins seen you today?", he asked, failing to be as subtle as he had intended.

"Yeah. She was here earlier and said I might be discharged tomorrow afternoon", Renee replied, and then took another bite of the bagel, as if that could prove she was fine.

"That's great", Larry said, feeling a mixture of relief and surprise. "Have you given any thought to where you want to go next?"

They both knew she couldn't spend one extra second in New York. Vladimir was on the run, and his crew was behind bars, but they had many connections still around. She couldn't prance around New York anymore without risking being seen by the wrong person.

"Yes, I did", Renee said, with a nod. "After my mom died, I rented her house for a while, but it's been empty for weeks. So, I'll be moving there"

Larry was immensely pleased to hear that, since that house was in Bethesda, close enough to the FBI's DC field office. It meant there was a chance that she'd go back to work for him, after all. But it wasn't the right time to discuss it, yet. "Great. If you need any help moving…"

"It'll be fine", she assured him with a smile. "I already spoke to Janis. She'll help get the house ready for tomorrow afternoon"

"That's good", he said, although the idea of Renee being all alone in a 3-bedroom house, after her ordeal, made him feel uneasy. "Maybe she should stay with you for a little while"

"No need", Renee blurted out, in an instant. "She offered. But I don't need to. I'll have everything I need, and they'll install a new alarm system today. It'll be just fine"

"All right". He knew how badly Renee needed to feel independent. The last thing he wanted was to upset her by implying that she couldn't live on her own again. "By the way, Janis really wanted to be here. But I needed her to stay in the office"

"She told me". Renee bit her lower lip, looking down. There was a burning question Janis had refused to answer, though. "Larry, won't you get in trouble for being here?"

Visibly uncomfortable, he pretended to misunderstand her question. "It's fine. I brought some of my work with me, I have my cellphone, and I haven't taken time off in ages, so…"

"I meant with Carla", she interrupted him, not in the mood for nonsense. Knowing his wife, Larry was risking facing an epic jealous meltdown. "Is she angry? Did you have to lie to her? Where does she think you are?"

"Don't worry about her", he stated in a heartbeat. Before Renee could ask anything else about it, he rushed to change the subject. "Hey, you know who'd love to see you? My mom. She moved to Florida last year, but she'd be on the first plane if she knew…"

"I'll speak to Zoe later", Renee assured him hastily, unwilling to let him dodge the question about his wife. The way he'd been free to spend a few days in New York, by _her_ bedside, seemed off. And she had noticed his ring was missing. "Seriously, Larry, what's going on with you and Carla? What happened to your ring?"

"I wouldn't know. I left it behind when I moved out", he finally admitted, as Renee's eyes widened in shock. "I've been divorced since February. Finalized, and everything"

"Divorced?!" she muttered in disbelief. Not just 'separated' or 'on a break', but divorced? She rested her back against the pillow, feeling beyond stunned. "I don't get it. You said you _couldn't_ leave her… ever…. because you made a promise before God…"

"I remember what I said", Larry cut her off, with more sharpness in his tone that he had intended. He already felt guilty enough, and had heard enough about God, sin and hell from Carla herself _and_ Carla's entire family. Not wanting to discuss the issue any longer, he stood up and threw away the empty coffee cups and bakery bags. "Look, Renee, we shouldn't be talking about any of this now. We should focus just on your recovery"

"I want to talk about this now", she demanded, as firmly as possible.

"And I'm telling you, this is a terrible time and place for _that _conversation", he insisted, trying to be reasonable. Avoiding her gaze, he wiped off some crumbs from the table.

"Larry, please. Don't you dare…", Renee snapped, with an icy look. She tried to get up from the bed, but couldn't without feeling pain. So she reluctantly remained siting up, with her back resting on the pillows. "Don't tell me when or where to talk, or what I shouldn't be talking about. I spent the last sixteen months with a man like that"

The comparison was like a slap on his face. Feeling defeated, Larry sat again on the chair by the bed. "Fine. What else do you want to know?"

"Did Carla find out that we kissed? Is that why…?". Renee was horrified to think that she _had _ruined Larry's marriage forever, after all… for sixteen months she had believed her absence would help him fix it, that she had done _one_ thing right. She didn't need a divorce weighing on her conscience, on top of everything else.

"I _told her_ that you and I kissed", he clarified. Sure, he had acted very wrongly for a while, but he couldn't hide the truth from Carla forever. He liked to believe he hadn't sunk _that _low. "I had to tell her, Renee. The guilt was killing me"

"Why? It was just kissing", she reminded him, with an exasperated sigh. "It meant nothing!", she blurted out, without being truthful and regretting those words as soon as she said them.

Larry felt like a punch in his stomach was knocking all the air out of him. But he made an effort to hide how hurt he felt. "Well…" he cleared his throat, trying to speak with a steady, unemotional tone. "That _nothing _happened three times… it was very wrong, and since I was trying to be a better person, I had to be honest with her"

Renee looked down, at her own hands. "I never wanted to destroy your marriage".

"_You_ didn't", he admitted. "After I told her everything, she still wanted to stay married. And I tried that for a little while, but it just didn't work out"

"Why not?", she asked with a challenging tone.

"Because you were never the problem", he affirmed, looking straight into her eyes. He let out a big sigh, full of resignation. Suddenly, the truth poured from his lips. "My marriage didn't die because I fell in love with you… I fell in love with you because my marriage was always wrong, and it died before I met you"

"Damn it, Larry", Renee muttered, under her breath, staring at him in disbelief. He was saying things she had prayed to hear for a long time, but it was now too late.

"I'm sorry I didn't see it any sooner", he whispered, on the verge of tears as well, as if he could read in her mind: _Too little, too late_. "I'm so sorry. I never should have gone back to her that night. I never should have let you come to New York…"

"Let me?", she cut him off, feeling angry with him again. Did he think _her_ decision had been about him? That he had the power to stop her, if she truly wanted anything? "Larry, we went through this before I left", she reminded him, now speaking more gently. "This was my choice, and it wasn't about you. I didn't _have_ to go undercover with him, or anybody… and I certainly didn't have to stay this long. I did all that for me. To complete a mission. I had to prove that I could do it, that I was strong enough. I did it for me"

"You think I don't know that?", Larry asked with his voice barely breaking, as he gently brushed off the tears that fell from her eyes with his fingertips. "Renee, I don't regret going back to her because I think that's what made you leave, or because I think that's why you ended up here". Trying not to break down completely, he tentatively cupped her hands with his. "I regret it because I missed you like crazy every single day… I regret it because you and I were really meant to be, and we threw that away for the wrong reasons…"

She was too overwhelmed to say anything. She caressed his cheek, and allowed him to lean closer, till his forehead was resting on hers. For a few seconds, both of them felt like people reaching the right destination, after being lost for far too long.

"I love you and I've loved you since we first met, Renee Walker", he whispered. To him, being able to finally say those words, felt like getting rid of a huge burden.

Abruptly, she pushed him away and shook her head, as if trying to snap out of a spell. He was talking to a woman that didn't truly exist anymore. The woman he loved, the one meant to be with him, was long dead. He just didn't realise so yet.

"And what _the hell_ do you expect me to do with all that _now_?!", she asked him bitterly.

"Nothing", he breathed out, backing away, shrugging slightly, with an obvious mix of despair and resignation. "Nothing at all", he repeated, while standing up, to move even further away from her. He was hurt, but he hadn't expected any different reaction from her. Not really. He knew admitting his feelings would be a mistake, but she had insisted, and the words had been trapped inside him for too long. "You asked questions, you wanted to talk about this… I had to tell you the truth. That's it"

"I'm so sorry, Larry…", she whispered, close to breaking down. "I just can't… I can't… I changed. Everything changed" Controlling the tears was becoming more and more difficult. "Toast can't never be bread again", she blurted out. Loud sobs then broke through her throat and tears flowed like a river, as she hid her face with her hands.

It was tearing him apart to watch her suffer. His instincts urged him to hold her, but he feared it could make matters even worse. Soon, he couldn't take it anymore. He got closer and put his arms around her. While she cried loudly, hiding her head in his chest, he gently stroked her hair. "It's okay", he whispered several times, as he battled with his own tears.

"I'm sorry… I just can't", she sobbed.

"That's fine", he assured her, still holding her. "One thing didn't change… I'm your friend. I'm here for you, if that's okay"

Those words actually soothed her. "Okay"

**May 04th 2009**

Because of hospital policy, Renee had to be taken from her room to the car in a wheelchair. A nurse wheeled her, while Larry walked by them, looking around for potential Russian threats, with his hand subtly near his concealed service gun. She wasn't allowed to have her own service gun and badge back, yet… Not until she was finished with all the psychiatric evaluations, fitness tests and counselling that were standard after such a long undercover assignment. It made perfect sense, since she had two mental breakdowns in the last 72 hours, and needed to be high on painkillers to move without feeling crippling pain in her ribs, not to mention the strong cramping. She deplored feeling so vulnerable. But, at least, she'd be out of the hospital. She couldn't wait to start regaining her independence. To regain control over her own body, and emotions.

Just when she was in the parking lot, about to get into Larry's car, her ex Clayton surprisingly approached them saying: "Hold on, Red… I have something for you", the doctor then looked at Larry, who was frowning. "Hey, buddy, do you mind…? This is kind of personal"

Larry looked at Renee, who nodded. So, he reluctantly moved further away, but keeping a vigilant eye on them.

"I wanted to return something of yours", Clayton explained, handing her a very old book.

She stared at its cover, in disbelief. It was a copy of '_The Crossroads of Time_'. It had been one of her father's most treasured books. It was about a man named Blake Walker who traveled through several versions of the planet as it might have been, if history had gone differently. The first page had a note scribbled with green ink by Renee's father, back in 1968: '_In this plane of existence, this book belongs to DENNIS WALKER_'.

Renee had looked for that book, like a crazy person, for a very long time. She looked back at Clayton, trying to hold back tears. "_You_ had it for the last six years?"

"I'm so sorry, Red", he said, looking deeply ashamed of himself. "When you left me, I was too bitter and angry… so, I stole it… and then I moved on, but I was too ashamed to admit I'd been so childish…"

"It's okay. Don't worry", Renee reassured him, slowly getting up from the wheelchair. After everything she had gone through, anything regarding Clayton felt like ancient history, or even prehistory. But she was immensely relieved to have her dad's book back. So relieved, that she gave her ex fiancé a hug. "I'm glad everything worked out for you"

"You were right when you said I'd end up thanking you someday", he admitted, believing his own prediction had been correct too… During their break-up, he had accused Renee of having 'daddy issues' and said she'd wind up with some older, blonde-haired, bright-eyed, authority figure, with a job in law enforcement or military. Clayton's brown eyes shifted back from Larry's distant scowl to Renee. "I guess what's truly meant to be always finds a way of happening… in this plane of existence", the doctor mused out loud. He winked at her, before rushing back to his work.

Renee still believed in the notions of 'meant to be', fate, destiny. But was struggling to figure what hers was. Something that once had been so clear in her mind, now felt uncertain. The strong woman who had been born to become Agent Walker, the one '_meant to be_' with Larry, appeared to be gone for good.

**Bethesda, Maryland**

After arriving to Renee's house, four hours later, Larry made sure it was secured and she had everything she might need. Then he left, as promised, without bringing up any personal feelings again. Once alone, Renee looked inside some of boxes with personal effects that Janis had brought in from the storage.

She nearly teared up when she came across yet another book that had a big impact her life: _"Life as Gloria Bruzzone: my 18 months undercover in Dante Aprile's crime family_", by Zoe Gianna Moss. The book written in 2002, thirty years after the facts, made no mention of sexual assault, or any improper relation between Zoe and her target. It described a very sanitized, FBI-approved, version of that undercover mission. But Renee had always suspected the truth, deep down. She wasn't surprised in the slightest, when Zoe told her the full story, in strict confidence. And, yet… meeting Zoe Moss and reading that book had been the last push Renee had needed to join the FBI.

The box also had two framed degrees with Renee's name: _B. A. in Russian language and culture, from Columbia University,_ and _M.A. in Russian and Slavic studies, from NYU_.

There was also a photo album with several pictures taken during her time working for the American embassy in Moscow. After breaking up with Clayton, right before joining the FBI.

Unexpectedly, a very old black and white photo fell from the album. That photo had also been taken in Russia… but in 1916. It showed a fancy-looking couple with a tiny infant, posing for a family portrait. The baby was Irina Zadan. Her parents would be murdered a few months after that picture was taken. She'd be, somehow, rescued from the turmoil in her homeland, to be raised in England and never return. She'd grow up to be a beauty and marry one Albert Walker. They'd move to America, where he'd make a fortune and she'd start going by Irene. She'd die too young, never getting to know her grandchildren, never envisioning that her story would fascinate and intrigue her great-granddaughter very much.

So, perhaps, Zoe was right… Perhaps Renee's entire life had been a preparation for her undercover assignment. But, as she put on her nightgown, and spotted the small red rose tattooed in the middle of her chest, symbol of her acceptance into a Russian crime ring, she couldn't help but wonder… what if _that _had been preparation for something else? Could it be that it had all been just training for something bigger? What if the last sixteen months hadn't truly been the worst of her life?

Renee tried to get rid of those terrifying thoughts immediately.

She took a painkiller before getting into bed. The instructions scribbled by the doctor said only one pill every six hours, or, maybe, only if truly needed, two pills before bedtime. But Renee was too tired of her mind racing. She felt an exhausting emotional pain, and more guilt inside her than anybody could ever carry. So, she took four pills of Percocet.

She left her bed in the middle of the night. Strangely, nothing in her body hurt anymore. Her eye was not bruised. Her lip was not cut. And her hair was shorter, back to its natural light-auburn shade. Moved by an impulse, she made her way downstairs, till she reached the kitchen. She was shocked to see her father making pancakes, while wearing his combat United States Marine corps uniform. Major Dennis Walker looked exactly like the last time she'd seen him. Young. Strong. Blonde hair and piercing aquamarine eyes.

"Daddy?"

"Oh, hi, Princess…", he greeted, with a charming smile.

"How high am I?", she wondered if the Percocet was causing this odd dream she was having. She didn't even dare to hug her dad, in case that made him disappear.

"I dunno", Dennis replied, while smoothly turning the pancake over in the air, with a quick movement of his wrist. "But I'll allow it… this once, since you had a pretty rough year".

"Pretty rough doesn't even begin to describe it", she said, with her eyes beginning to moist.

"Yeah", Dennis agreed, placing two plates with pancakes over the large blue breakfast island. His copy of '_The Crossroads of Time'_ was also on top of it.

Renee picked the book up. "I was obsessed with this book for such a long time… Must have read it hundredths of times. I kept picturing a world where you didn't die, wondering what would be different…"

"Well…" her dad shrugged. "If it's any consolation, some people believe there _really_ _is_ an infinite number of universes, and everything that can happen, does happen… somewhere"

But Renee shook her head, not feeling comforted by that notion anymore. She finally dared to hug her father and melted down in loud sobs.

"then how about this…?", Dennis spoke, while gently stroking her hair, like he used to do when she was five. "_This_ life, the only one you get, is not over for you… not yet. You are still breathing, still alive. You get to wake up tomorrow and figure out the next steps".

"It's not so easy", she admitted, between sobs.

"It's extremely difficult", her father agreed. "But you have so much going for you… You are courageous, smart, strong… and you could finally have the man you've loved for the last four years…"

She shook her head, and moved away. "Thank you. But I don't need a man"

"I didn't say you _need_ a man", Dennis clarified. "I said _could_ have one you love, and loves you back, if you chose to. Love can be very powerful and healing. I guess you never noticed, but I depended on your mother, quite a lot"

"I obviously noticed, since you are not really here, you are a manifestation of my subconscious", Renee pointed out smoothly.

"Smart girl", her dad smirked with pride. But then his grin faded. "How come you're too stupid to accept true love?"

"Because Larry doesn't love _me_!", she snapped, nearly weeping out of deep frustration. "He loves a version of me that only exists in his head. And if he ever saw the real me, if he saw the person I really am, it'd break his heart, and he'd hate me, and that'd break _my_ heart. I want someone who can love me just the way that I am"

"Why do you think he won't love you just as you really are?", her father asked, looking very disappointed. "You'll never know for sure if you just keep a wall between you two"

"Maybe I'm just too scared to find out", Renee admitted softly, feeling ashamed of herself.

"You're smarter, and much braver, than that, princess", Dennis scolded her, with the same tone he had used when she was six years old. "You know that the day will come when he'll see everything you want to hide… the wounds, the darkness, the burden... Eventually it'll all come up to the surface. It could happen tomorrow, or in six years from now. But it will happen. And, after that inevitable day, you _will_ find out how he really feels… unless, of course, that's also the day _this_ existence is over for either one of you"

Renee stared at her dad, horrified by that thought. "Oh"

Feeling his job was done, Dennis grabbed his green army jacket, before walking way and disappearing.

**June 15th 2009**

**Wakefield, Washington DC. **

Renee was jogging down the streets of the nation's capital, under a stunning full moon. It was nearly two am, but she couldn't sleep. She didn't want to. She was too tired… tired of the nightmares full of blood, and the dreams with strange messages. At least, she had stopped taking the painkillers. Six weeks after the abrupt end of her undercover mission, she didn't need them anymore. Her body was, nearly, back to normal. But her mind was a different story. The only thing that helped her was to go out for a long run.

Without even thinking about it, she ended up in front of Larry's apartment. She didn't have any plan in her mind. But she wanted badly to see him, to talk to him. She took a deep breath, gathering all her courage, and rang the doorbell. He opened the door faster than she had expected that late at night, wearing an old _'The Washington Wizards_' t-shirt.

"Hey", he was shocked to see her, standing on his doorstep, in the middle of the night. Her sporty tank top, shorts and matching headband told him that she had gone out for a jog at 2 AM, which was alarming. Her FBI therapist had written a very positive report, and deemed her fit to go back to duty. But it was painfully obvious that she was still struggling.

"Hey. I'm sorry to come over this late", she apologized timidly, as he stepped away, to let her walk in. It was merely a studio. A kitchenette, a bookcase, a desk with a computer, a small table with a two-seater sofa in front of a TV, and a queen size bed… all somewhat crammed in 450 square feet. She was a bit thrown aback by how small his apartment was.

"It's okay. I couldn't sleep anyway", he reassured her. He had promised to be her friend, and she needed one. "I'd offer you a tour of the apartment, but, well… this is pretty much it" They both chuckled. "Would you like anything to drink?"

"You have a good Scotch?". She felt restless, anxious, and wanted those feelings to go away.

"I think I might", Larry began searching inside his kitchen cabinets.

As she paced around the studio, Renee noticed a few framed family photos of Larry with his mom and his long-departed grandmother, and a photo of a 16-year-old Larry posing happily with the other members of his high school basketball team, as large medals hung from the boys' necks. There were also two old vinyl records framed and displayed on a wall: _Rumours_, by Fleetwood Mac and _Nimrod_, by Green Day. It put a small smile on her face. She was liking to finally see the place where Larry lived.

"So, when did you move here?", she asked.

"Right after I left Carla", he said awkwardly, still looking for the alcohol. "Over a year ago"

Renee silently sat on the sofa, looking down. Now feeling like an anvil made of guilt hit her in the head. Clearly, the financial cost of the divorce was the reason why he couldn't afford a bigger, fancier, place.

He finally found a large bottle of Glenlivet single malt whisky, still full. "Here it is" He took two glasses and poured some of the whisky in them. "So, did you run here from your house? That's 3 miles". He tried to sound casual about it, like it didn't worry him that she had run for an hour, that late, right after recovering from five broken ribs.

"I just couldn't sleep", she shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. She watched him put some ice and lemon in her whisky, remembering the exact way she preferred it. She sighed, realizing she had to go straight to the point. "Larry, I met with the human resources director. They want me to go back to the DC field office, and they even offered me a promotion"

"Yeah. They obviously asked me before talking to you", he admitted, handing Renee her drink. "I told them you deserve it"

"Larry, you know I don't". Her voice was nearly breaking and she sounded almost like a lost child. She stared down at the ice in the glass, feeling uncomfortable. "Agent Lundy only recommended me because he feels guilty… HR wants to cover-up that things got out of hand… and they don't even know half of it"

"We all know that an arm-trafficking ring is down because of you", Larry reminded her, for the tenth time in the last month. Watching her so insecure and so full of self-loathe was upsetting him. He recalled too clearly the time before that dammed assignment, when she was the exact opposite. "Several criminals are in jail and their leader is on the run, he can't work, or even show his face, in this country anymore" as he spoke, he sat on the chair by his desk, as far away from her as possible.

"But I sold my soul to earn his trust…", she pointed out bitterly, before drinking half the whisky on her glass. "You always said that the problem with adapting to your enemy, is that you end up being as bad as they are, and that's how they win".

"I know", he admitted, looking down to his own glass, feeling guilty that his own words were causing her pain. "But there's no other choice during an undercover assignment… your case officer expected certain results from you. And your life was in danger. It's very different"

"Doesn't feel that different to me", she argued, shaking her head, stubbornly. "I became one of them… How can I possibly pick up my badge again after that? I'm not sure I belong in the FBI anymore", she wondered out loud, with a shrug. Then she finished her whisky, with one long swallow. "As I said… toast can't never be bread again".

"But _he'_s toast… you're not", Larry claimed, sounding too desperate. He couldn't bear to watch so much pain in her eyes. Like many times since her return, he was urging to touch her or hold her, to offer some comfort, but forced himself to remain distant. "Renee, you can pick up your badge again, _proudly_, because _that badge_ represents who you really are… you are not your sixteen months undercover. That wasn't you"

She appreciated his intentions, but she was full of doubt. She felt he was being too naïve, and holding on to his fantasy of who she was. "Maybe it was. You don't really know me"

"I know your conscience's been keeping you awake", he replied in a heartbeat. "That has to mean something"

"Maybe it just means I drink too much coffee during the day", she only half-joked.

"Yeah…", Larry shrugged dismissively. "that's also why I'm awake… coffee", he obviously lied, with a tiny smirk. They locked eyes, remaining silent for a moment. He noticed her hair was back to its light-auburn shade, rather than black-cherry red. He knew her well enough to recognize that change as positive sign. He believed in the Renee Walker he had always seen with his own eyes, in the better angels of her nature. "By the way, I bought you something to celebrate your return to the office", he suddenly remembered, and went to look for a gift bag inside his closet.

"Oh, you shouldn't have", Renee mumbled, feeling surprised. "I haven't even accepted the promotion yet"

"Say I'm an optimist", Larry shrugged and handed her the bag. He was glad to see a small smile on her face when she saw a steel travel mug with the American flag. "I know you like to have your coffee in your car, on your way to work…"

"True. Thank you", she nodded, feeling too close to tearing up, over something so small and simple. How could someone who knew her so well could, at the same time, be so clueless about who she really was? She could see in his eyes how much he cared. But, beyond any personal attraction, he had always valued and respected her work. When he praised her as an FBI agent, he really meant it. The idea of losing such admiration was too unbearable. Right then, she didn't have many good things to hold on to… and starting a romantic relationship, exposing her true colours to him, could destroy what she had.

"Larry", she finally whispered, with her voice nearly breaking. "This is never going to work"

He knew what she meant. He'd been expecting a very hurtful '_You love me, but I don't love you, so I can't work for you again_' speech from her. Yet, he played dumb, in a very lame attempt to delay his own heartbreak. "Sure, it'll work", he said, taking the travel mug and examining it, like it was the most fascinating item in the room. "Keeps the drink hot for five hours. They removed the air between the metal layers, so the coffee can't transfer heat to the cooler air surrounding it."

Renee took the mug back from his hands, put it over the table and shook her head. "That's not what I'm talking about"

"Yeah. I didn't think so", Larry sighed, with resignation. He was a 36-year-old man who had become the youngest Assistant Director in the history of the FBI NY office, at the age of 31, and then gotten a very-very coveted transfer to the DC field office. That hadn't happened without getting himself into extremely dangerous situations, many times, without blinking or hesitating. Why was he so terrified of facing, yet another, rejection from her?

"Back at the hospital, you said things about your feelings…", she began speaking, not even knowing where she was going with this conversation. Full confession of her own very complicated emotions and fears? The idea made her overly anxious. She paced back and forth between the kitchenette and the sofa, as her hands clasped and unclasped each other.

"Don't worry about it", Larry interrupted her hastily, before she could say anything that would hurt him any deeper. "Listen, I'm sorry. I know I really messed everything up before... Not just at the hospital, but before you left to New York… _especially _then.", as he spoke, he sat on the sofa, hiding his head between his hands, feeling ashamed of himself. "I was married, and I was your boss… my behavior was unacceptable, very bad on so many levels". He then looked directly at her, with a very serious expression. "I was too emotional, I let my feelings control me, and I really hated that". He shook his head, in a disapproving gesture, aimed at himself. He could count with a single hand the moments in his adult life when his feelings had overpowered him, escaped to the surface when he wished to hide them. And all those rare moments had involved Renee. "Won't happen again"

"Larry, it's not like your feelings were one-sided. Far from it", she reminded him with a gentle tone, tentatively making a few steps towards him.

"I know", he sighed. He was very aware that, at one point, she had wanted him… back when he was still married. His inappropriate feelings for her had once been reciprocated, with equal intensity. But Renee kept saying that everything was different now. Now that he was free, she was clearly no longer interested. Her feelings were gone… or 'toast'. Such a heart-breaking irony he was obliged to accept. "But you don't feel the same anymore, and I get it. You just want to work for me and be friends. Everything else is off the table". He headed to the fridge, to look for a non-alcoholic beverage. Having another scotch around her would be a terrible idea, since alcohol had also played a role in his past mistakes. "So, rest assured I'll always respect that. I swear I won't cross any line, ever again"

She trusted he would keep that promise forever, because now he believed she was uninterested. And, to him, her wishes made all the difference in the world. It suddenly became clear to Renee that, right there and then, she had two options… she could accept the easy way out he was offering, just work for him and be friends. Or… she could take a massive risk and be with the man she had loved for the past four years.

"Larry, may I use your bathroom for a moment?", she asked, not showing any emotion, but having made a decision. "I need to freshen up"

"Sure. Right there", he said, pointing a door by the bookcase.

Renee nodded and disappeared into the bathroom. Larry heard the shower running, but considering it was 80 °F outside (26°C) and she had been running for an hour, he didn't read much into it. Yet, she later reemerged before him wearing only his blue bathroom robe, the front of which was half-opened, exposing her cleavage.

Larry's eyes widened. He nearly dropped the can of soda that was half-way to his mouth, but made his best to appear unfazed. "Renee, what about that line we were just talking about?"

She smirked while dimming the lights of the room, and began to slowly walk towards him. "I decided I don't want to just work for you and be friends. I'd also like to try…" She raised an eyebrow. "everything else"

"I've always loved your ambition", he whispered in her ear, enjoying the way she put her hands underneath his t-shirt, to caress his chest. He ran his hands through her hair and back, looking at her in the eye. "You're really sure about this?".

Renee's answer was to stand on her tiptoes, and gently brush her lips against his.

It wasn't their first kiss. Except, this time, kissing would take them somewhere brand new… somewhere they had only ever visited together in their fantasies.

They had no idea what the future would bring, but something, somehow, became clear as they shared the bed for the first time… they were heading towards a place they'd never been with anybody else.

**To be continued… **


End file.
